<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Counting To None by Nope</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25784017">Counting To None</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nope/pseuds/Nope'>Nope</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2003-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2003-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:08:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,581</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25784017</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nope/pseuds/Nope</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The evolution of the system is critically dependent on the initial variables.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Counting To None</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Draco and Hermione glared at each other.</p><p>This was easy to do. Professor Vector insisted on the desks being arranged in a circle and since Draco and Hermione insisted on sitting as far apart as possible they always ended up directly opposite each other; consequently, when they weren't busy trying to out-answer each other, much of the lesson was spent glaring. Occasionally, they even listened to the Professor, who was currently saying:</p><p>"...spell matrices exhibit super symmetry, containing themselves; which tells us what, Miss Li?"</p><p>Su Li squeaked, sitting up even straighter in her seat. </p><p>"Some time today, Miss Li."</p><p>"Um... Spells evolve from spells?"</p><p>"And?" Vector slapped her wand impatiently against her palm then pointed with it. "Mister Malfoy."</p><p>"The effect of the spell depends on the scale you're working with."</p><p>"Obviously. What else?"</p><p>"Strong magic events trigger simultaneous weak magic events."</p><p>"Example? Miss Granger."</p><p>"Thaumoluminescence: fluorescing spell trails."</p><p>"And heat, sound, motion, and so on," said Vector. "Primary and, consequently, secondary effects depend on what?"</p><p>"The combination of underlying spell-components... the strength, position and intonation of the caster..."</p><p>"And so? Mister Malfoy?"</p><p>"Evolution of the system is critically dependent on initial conditions," announced Draco in a bored tone.</p><p>"Very good, Mister Malfoy," said Professor Vector. </p><p>"Arrogant git," thought Hermione and wrote it down anyway.</p><p>#</p><p class="times"><i>Seventeen years</i>, she thinks, and sighs, and signs her resignation, and tosses her pen down on the desk. She can see herself in the windows, herself and London bathed in orange arc light under a purple blue sky, old and tired.</p><p class="times">She pulls on her coat and picks up her purse and walks down all eleven flights of stairs because the lifts are out again, pushes open the Ministry doors and stands there until they've closed again in a slow whisper of hydraulics. It's cold out, windy, and she thinks that maybe it will snow soon. Maybe it won't. They've been having strange weather lately. Her flat's downtown but she turns and walks towards the lights and stares for a long time at the glowing neon <i> Nox</i> before going on.</p><p class="times">Stops. Comes back, stares, goes inside, and he's sitting behind the piano, hair silver in the spotlight and falling in his face and his eyes dark and on her the moment she enters and following her to the bar and the stool and the barmaid asks her a question and she finally remembers to breathe.</p><p class="times">He runs his fingers down the board, eighty-eight keys falling in overlapping chords. She pulls the olive off her cocktail stick with her teeth.</p><p class="times">They hold each other's gaze until the song ends.</p><p>#</p><p>The bell rang an end to the lesson.</p><p>"We'll pick this up again next lesson," Vector called over the noise of them packing away quills and parchment, books and wands. "In the mean time, I expect you to start work on your essays. I want an abstract and an outline ready tomorrow. I'll be marking these to OWL specifications, so they should be accurate and complete, precise and <i>concise</i>, Miss Granger."</p><p>There were a few laughs at that and Hermione blushed. Draco sniggered loudly and she shot him a daggered glance over her book bag.</p><p>"More than one of you should take note as well," warned Vector. "Verbosity and thoroughness are not automatic equivalents; quality not quantity. I'll see you all tomorrow."</p><p>They left, calling goodbyes as they scattered towards their separate houses, until only two were left in the corridor. True to form, Draco took the opportunity to smirk. </p><p>"Scurrying off to panic, Granger? Can't waffle yourself to a high mark this time." </p><p>Hermione pushed her bag up on her shoulder. "I already have my essay planned, actually; I doubt you've even thought about yours."</p><p>"Actually," sneered Draco. "Some of us have, you know, lives."</p><p>He stalked away up the corridor, blowing past Harry and Ron with a casual insult as they rounded the corner. Harry ignored him, calling out a greeting; Ron made a rude gesture at Malfoy's back.</p><p>"Very mature," said Hermione as the boys settled into step with her. "How was divination?"</p><p>"Apparently we're due heavy consequences," said Harry. "So Ron suggested we were going to get sat on by an Elephant."</p><p>"Which went down really well, let me tell you," added Ron, "but Harry got her off my back by predicting his own horrible death."</p><p>"This is why you should do a real subject," sniffed Hermione. "And don't you roll your eyes at me, Ronald Weasley."</p><p>"Wouldn't dream of it, Hermione," grinned Ron. "Wanna come play Exploding Snap before Quidditch practice?"</p><p>Hermione shook her head. "Thanks, but I have to go--"</p><p>"To the library?" asked Harry, brightly, and Ron chimed in with "It's the library, isn't it?"</p><p>"For your information, I happen to be going to the Prefect's Bathroom..."</p><p>They both stared at her in expectation. Hermione sighed.</p><p>"...and then to the library."</p><p>She rolled her eyes at their matching grins and strode off, already composing her bibliography in her head.</p><p>#</p><p class="times">She's so buried in her paperwork that she's walked right past him before his presence registers; and she's almost through the gates before the strangeness of it hits her. He's hunched over, hair falling in his face, cigarette in his mouth and wearing a dark-green shirt whose reflection gives a sickly sheen to the curving gold of the fountain. She walks over and his shoulders tighten at her footsteps, though he does not look up.</p><p class="times">"Draco?"</p><p class="times">A deep inhale; the cigarette winks red at her.</p><p class="times">"What's going on?"</p><p class="times">"Hmm?" He glances up at her through the coils of smoke. "Oh. I quit."</p><p class="times">She stares blankly at the cigarette.</p><p class="times">"My job, Hermione." His lips twist in an approximation of a smile. "You daft bint."</p><p class="times">"I don't--" She shakes her head. "What happened?"</p><p class="times">"I was kinda hoping they'd fire me; would've got more money that way. Guess the bean-counters thought of that."</p><p class="times">"Draco. What happened?"</p><p class="times">"It was nothing. Politics." He lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug. "What's fifteen years between enemies, right?"</p><p class="times">"They can't--"</p><p class="times">"They can. They have." He laughs, short, bitter. "They don't want us here, Hermione. Don't tell me you haven't noticed. We remind people of too much. All that's been lost."</p><p class="times">She tries to think of someway to refute this, but even she has heard the whispers, seen people turn away, had rooms become silent when she enters; and every year there are more of them, the words louder, sharper.</p><p class="times">"Potter had the right of it," he says. "Should have walked away when I had the chance. You did. Always were smarter than me."</p><p class="times">"Draco? I--" She can't find words; and when she finally says "I'm sorry" it's too small to mean what she thinks it should.</p><p class="times">He studies her for a moment, eyes hot, face cold. Says, "yeah." Stands. Tosses his cigarette into the fountain. Raises his wand. Says, "me too."</p><p class="times">A small noise, like something breaking, and he's gone.</p><p class="times">She should report him; but she stands there for a long time, not really thinking, just listening to the water burble, the low hum of the pumps; then she goes back inside.</p><p>#</p><p>The Library was her territory and she knew it intimately: every crook and cranny, every charm-hidden shelf and impossibly-sided bookcase, the position of every book ordered by people who had never even heard of the Dewey Decimal system and seemed to think that things like "colour of the cover" were good ways to arrange things. She could recite authors by their specialities and specialities by their authors and if cross-referencing had been an Olympic sport, she could have played for England. And yet somehow, some impossible how, she'd lost a book. </p><p><i>Misplaced</i> a book. Not lost. Misplaced.</p><p>Hermione could have sworn she'd taken it off the self. She had a clear, fresh memory of climbing up on a footstool to carefully slide the thick green-velvet covered <i>Principia Arithmancia</i> down. Although, admittedly, she'd done so almost every day for the last fortnight, so she just might have been a little confused. But there was definitely a gap on the shelf and an empty space by her parchment that was just the right shape for the book not in it.</p><p>It was possible that Harry and Ron were finally right and all the study had sent her round the bend. She vaguely recalled a fascinating article she'd read on the effects of stress on Japanese students and made a note to look it up again when she'd finished double-checking her essay outline. Which she would be doing, if only she could remember what she'd done with that damn book.</p><p>Frowning, Hermione searched again through the piles around her, even going so far as to push her chair out and check under the desk. There was no sign of it, although Madame Pince gave her a strange look when she came back. With an annoyed sigh, she reached for Poincare's <i>Grammaticon</i> instead, consoling herself that she'd search properly once her work was done.</p><p>The book flew out of her fingers. </p><p>It got half-way down the stacks before she <i>Accio</i>ed it back. Magic had its drawbacks, she mused, opening the book to the index; at least in Muggle libraries you could expect the books to stay still. She ran a finger down the column and only just pulled her hand away before the book snapped shut and shot off again. Another quick "<i>Accio</i>" stopped it, but it didn't come back, instead continuing to float slowly away.</p><p>She cast the Summoning charm again, and the book started back towards her before suddenly jerking away so hard the responding tug in her wand pulled her to her feet. Hermione tightened her grip. The book shuddered in mid-air pulling hard against her.</p><p>"<i>Accio</i>," called a familiar voice and she automatically repeated it herself.</p><p>The book twisted, straining against her. Hermione considered it for a moment and then, with a small smile, let go. The book sprang away at high speeds and she was somewhat annoyed when an arm rose from behind a stack of books to casually snatch it out of the air before it could hit anything.</p><p>Striding across to the table, she leaned over the pile to glare at the boy on the other side, who resolutely ignored her, and snapped "I was using that, Malfoy."</p><p>"Working," said Draco without looking up. "Quiet now."</p><p>"This is your definition of the high life, is it?" asked Hermione.</p><p>Draco sighed, sitting back. "There's this place you've probably only read about called 'outside', where water sometimes falls from the sky." He waved his quill in vague demonstration. "We call that rain, and only complete morons fly around it."</p><p>"Harry trains in the--" Hermione broke off at his grin, and glared. "Maybe that's why he's a better Seeker than you."</p><p>"The day I take flying pointers from you is the day I transfer to Hufflepuff," said Draco. "Now, if you don't mind, some of us are trying to work."</p><p>"I would have been working too if you hadn't stolen my books!"</p><p>"Your books, Granger? In case it slipped your attention, this is the School Library."</p><p>"I had them first!"</p><p>"Then it's clearly time you shared, isn't it?"</p><p>"...Okay! Fine!" With a flick of her wand, she summoned her stuff over from the over table.</p><p>"What?" Draco stared at the flying parchment. "What are you doing?"</p><p>"Sharing," said Hermione. "Just like you suggested."</p><p>And, smiling nastily, she took the opposite seat.</p><p>#</p><p class="times">The floor's cold against her and she can't remember what they were arguing about. That's the funny thing. Just the heat on her cheek. Anger and horror, disgust and nothing, all in his eyes. Touches her fingers to the imprints of his. Thinks "seven years" and finds she has nothing to connect it to.</p><p class="times">There's a noise over the hammering of her heart, loud and harsh. It takes her a moment to recognise it as a piano. It sounds like screaming. She pushes herself to her feet, follows the sound through the Manor. Stands in the doorway. He's pulled in, hunched over so she can't see his eyes. She hates that, she thinks; she always has.</p><p class="times">"Draco," she says. Takes a step closer. Another.</p><p class="times">He shifts in the seat, flubs a note, a chord. His timing is off and he's hitting the keys too hard and anyway the truth is, even at his best, for all he works at it, he'll never be much more than adequate.</p><p class="times">Which, when it comes down to it, is the problem, really, isn't it?</p><p class="times">"I'm leaving," she says.</p><p class="times">"Okay."</p><p class="times">She adds "you" in case it wasn't clear.</p><p class="times">"Okay," he repeats. He is still playing. He hasn't looked up.</p><p class="times">She leaves her ring on the piano. He isn't wearing his.</p><p>#</p><p>Ravenclaws didn't particularly care where information came from as long as it was accurate. Slytherins cared only if it was useful. A Hufflepuff would say the concerns of all outweighed the cares of the individual. Gryffindors assigned moral values to everything.</p><p>Hermione, for instance, was wondering if it was okay to hit Malfoy over the head with Klein's <i>Dictionary of Arithmancy Terminology</i> for the purely scientific purpose of finding out how much damage it would cause; after all, books could fall on anyone in the library and she would hate for people to be ill-informed about the consequences. Who knew what could happen? She hefted the book thoughtfully.</p><p>Without either looking up or stopping tapping the fingers of his free hand against the desk, Draco said, "You'll ruin the book."</p><p>She glared at him, but he was right, of course. </p><p>Bastard.</p><p>Hermione hadn't even said it aloud yet still she blushed; and, of course, Draco chose that exact moment to look up. He curled his lips at her.</p><p>"Do I make you... uncomfortable, Granger?"</p><p>"Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy."</p><p>"Like I'd touch you with a broomstick; some of us have standards."</p><p>"You're dating Pansy Parkinson."</p><p>"Exact--" Draco broke off and glared at her; she smiled sweetly back. "Shut up."</p><p>He went back to writing, quill flicking like an angry cat's tail. It was oddly fascinating and as she followed its path across the parchment, she soon found herself reading Draco's work. It was upside down and already complicated in its own right but as he deftly combined and compared equations she began to get a clearer idea. The first set described something small and moving erratically, the second, a much larger object chasing the first, the third of a size between the two and aggressively targeting the second... In fact, the more she considered it, the more he seemed to be...</p><p>"You're modelling a Quidditch Match!"</p><p>"What's it to you?"</p><p>"Hoping since you can't out fly Harry, you can out think him?"</p><p>"Because out thinking Potter is so hard. Oh, wait..."</p><p>"You know you can't model the entire game."</p><p>"And I can too out fly him!"</p><p>"Whatever gets you through the day, Malfoy."</p><p>"And for your information, Granger," said Draco. "I don't have to model everything. I just have to show that it's possible; that a model for the game can be extrapolated from the codified three object problem in theory, even if the actual practice would prove unworkable."</p><p>"Oh," said Hermione, considering. That was almost clever. She frowned, watching him manipulate equations. After a moment, she said, "That won't work, you know."</p><p>Draco jumped, quill slipping and adding an inflection to his last rune that sent the entire line scurrying off the edge of his page. He fixed her with his death glare. "What. Won't. Work?"</p><p>"Um, nothing, sorry." </p><p>"Don't you have some House-Elves to coddle or something?"</p><p>"Only-you've-forgotten-about-gravity-and-conservation-of-momentum," she said before she could stop herself, all on one breath, and then collapsed back in her chair, colouring with embarrassment.</p><p>He stared at her, then at his paper, back at her and once more at the paper, before suddenly slashing lines through his work. He glared at the mess.</p><p>"Sorry," said Hermione.</p><p>"Just do your own work, Granger."</p><p>Hermione opened her mouth to explain further, but he deliberately ducked his head, making an over-acted point of ignoring her. With a small sigh, she turned back to perusing her own notes. Sometimes her mind clearly worked faster than her hand because halfway through she found "clustered probabilities/certain inevitable tendency towards particular solutions???" scribbled in the margin and spent a fruitless fifteen minutes trying to work out what exactly she had meant.</p><p>Draco nicked Klein's <i>Dictionary</i> while she was distracted.</p><p>#</p><p class="times">"Some honeymoon," she says.</p><p class="times">He throws her a glance, but keeps his wand steady. The forest shakes around them. Through the leaves, she catches glimpses of Hogwarts, of the others in the shrinking circle. There are so few of them.</p><p class="times">"They deserve better than this," she says as they retreat, pulling the light with them. "We should be able to give them better than this."</p><p class="times">Outside the circle, the trees darken and brown; the Whomping Willow sighs, its branches still, its trunk cracking. An owl blinks stupidly at them.</p><p class="times">He says, "If you have better ideas--"</p><p class="times">"I know! I know," she says. "But, it's just, I feel so helpless--"</p><p class="times">"We are!" He spins, wand on her, eyes flashing. "We are helpless!"</p><p class="times">There's a silence louder than his breathing.</p><p class="times">She says, "you know, you can't afford to waste the magic it would take to hex me."</p><p class="times">"Sometimes," he starts loudly, then sighs and lowers his wand. "Sometimes, I think we should have let Riddle win. At least it would've been quicker."</p><p class="times">"Dead is dead, Draco."</p><p class="times">He shakes his head. "This isn't death, Hermione. This is decay. We're rotting away from the inside."</p><p class="times">She says his name, reaches out a hand. He moves away from it, towards a small figure moving slowly towards them, says:</p><p class="times">"You were supposed to stay in the castle."</p><p class="times">"Is it good?" asks Dobby. "Is it done?"</p><p class="times">"It's-- For now."</p><p class="times">"For now?" repeats Dobby.</p><p class="times">They share a glance, but there is nothing more to say.</p><p class="times">"We is going to fade away," says Dobby and wraps his arms around himself. "We is all going to fade."</p><p>#</p><p>"Oh, please! It's clearly asymptotic--"</p><p>"I'm not denying-- Look, if the limit is never achieved--"</p><p>"It's a closed-- No, don't give me that, the max/min of--"</p><p>"Yes, but you're ignoring the possibility of stable oscillation between--" </p><p>"It's irrelevant! The mean values clearly overweigh--"</p><p>"Well, then what about the Eigenstates of the--"</p><p>"Conservation of--"</p><p>"Recursion is--"</p><p>"Prove--"</p><p>"Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy."</p><p>Hermione jerked backwards -- when had they got so close? She'd practically been shouting in Malfoy's face -- and turned to look at Madame Pince, an apology already forming on her lips.</p><p>"As pleasing as it is that you're both taking such a keen interest in your work, it was well past time to close the library."</p><p>"Past time...?" Hermione looked around to see that, not only were they the only ones left, but that most of the lights had already been extinguished as well. "Oh! I'm sorry, Madame Pince, I-- I hadn't realised it had got quite so late. We'll pack up, right away."</p><p>"See that you do," said Pince. "I'll be around for a few more minutes if you need to sign any books out."</p><p>They started clearing up as she walked away, capping ink bottles and rolling up parchment, both studiously ignoring the other. They could hear Pince moving around in the stacks, reshelving books. They both looked at the piles they'd accumulated during their argument, the majority of which were lying open to relevant pages.</p><p>"You should--" began Draco just as Hermione said "Why don't you--"</p><p>They both broke off. The silence stretched until Draco gave a small noise of annoyance and began going through the pile, picking out books and adding them to his own stack. Hermione quickly joined him, and soon they'd all but cleared the table into two matching piles. The fewer books there were, the fast they grabbed for them; until finally they both reached for Pothelwaite's <i>Compendium</i> at the same time. </p><p>Their hands touched.</p><p>Draco looked up sharply.</p><p>"What's--" Hermione stopped, tried again, pleased to hear her voice come out steady. "What's the matter, Malfoy? Do I make you uncomfortable?"</p><p>He stared at her blankly, then suddenly made a small noise of disgust and pulled away. Grabbing his bag he walked quickly away without looking back. Hermione watched him till he turned the corner then, looking back at the table, added his pile to hers. </p><p>Staggering somewhat under the load, she took the books to sign them out. Outside the Library, she checked Pince was too busy closing up to be watching, and then cast a small levitation charm. Pushing the books ahead of her, she made her way back to Gryffindor Tower, only to find the fire banked down and the common room empty.</p><p>About to head to bed, she dropped into one of the armchairs closest to the hearth instead; although most of Draco's argument had been patently absurd, one or two things he'd said had stuck with her. It wouldn't hurt to check some of the ideas she'd been given. His argument about induction methods, for instance, she was sure she could apply to her own work. With a few small changes so they worked better. She pulled out Pothelwaite's <i>Compendium</i> with a small smile, snuggled closer to the fire, opened it to the relevant chapter and began to read. Within minutes her eyes had fluttered closed.</p><p>Head resting on the book, Hermione slept.</p><p class="times">#</p><p class="times">Sore, sticky and sated, she stretches out on the satin sheets, smiles around a contented moan. He grins at that and moves up beside her and laughs softly when she rolls over to curl against him. Draws lazy spirals on his chest with her forefinger.</p><p class="times">"Draco?"</p><p class="times">"Mmm?"</p><p class="times">"That was nice."</p><p class="times">"Nice?" He laughs softly. "Just nice. I'll have to try better next time."</p><p class="times">"Oh, god. I think that might just kill me."</p><p class="times">He pokes her side, crowing, "Oh, ho!"</p><p class="times">"Hey!" She slaps his fingers away. "I'd have hated to inflate that super sized ego any further."</p><p class="times">He smirks. "My ego's not the only thing that's super sized."</p><p class="times">"Case in point." She curls her fingertips enough to run her nails over his skin, hard enough to make him shiver. "I don't know why I put up with you."</p><p class="times">"Masochistic tendencies?"</p><p class="times">"Don't get any ideas," she smiles, laughs when he pulls lightly at her hair.</p><p class="times">It's warm in the room, dimmed lights and his fingers in her hair, and she almost dozes until, in a quiet voice, he makes a question of her name.</p><p class="times">"Why are you here? Really?" he asks. "I'm not a good guy. I never meant to be."</p><p class="times">"I like a good puzzle," she grins up at him. "And you may have your faults--" Breaks off, giggling. "Oh, boy, do you have your faults!"</p><p class="times">"Oh, thank you very much!"</p><p class="times">"But, for all your protestations, you're not a bad man, Mister Malfoy."</p><p class="times">"Plus, there's that whole super sized thing."</p><p class="times">"Quiet, ferret boy." An order with laughter in it; then, silence for a while, before: "Draco?"</p><p class="times">"Mm?"</p><p class="times">"Why, um... Why are you here?"</p><p class="times">"I don't know where else to be," he says, and touches his lips to the crown of her head.</p><p>#</p><p>Malfoy, Hermione had decided, wouldn't know good sense if it was hammered into this skull with six inch nails. She'd woken up stiff and cranky and skipping breakfast to come to Arithmancy early, only to find Draco had done exactly the same. Since neither wished to yield the door to the other, they were standing in the corridor; and since neither wished to yield the point, they were arguing loudly, about:</p><p>"--pointless shortcuts!"</p><p>"It's not a short cut, Malfoy! It's simply a more efficient method." </p><p>"The accepted method is--"</p><p>"Yes, because if it's been done that way for a thousand years, it must be the best way to do it!"</p><p>"Exactly! There are reasons for Traditions, for tried-and-true--"</p><p>"Then maybe next time Harry knocks you off your broom, we can get Pomfrey to use leeches! They're traditional!"</p><p>"Of course we should update our methods!"</p><p>"That's what I'm saying!" snapped Hermione. "We--"</p><p>"But!" interrupted Draco. "But it should be through a process of careful testing at each stage and every stage. Adapted through a series of small, logical changes not--"</p><p>"Oh, for--! Without innovation, everything stagnates!"</p><p>"Or maybe without unnecessary outside factors, order can be maintained!"</p><p>"If you won't even consider the possibility, how are you ever going to see potential? There's a place for intuitive--"</p><p>"Guessing is what makes Longbottom such a menace in Potions, Granger!"</p><p>"Intuition is what makes Snape such a master in Potions, Malfoy!"</p><p>"What? That, that's totally beside the point!"</p><p>"Then what is the point?"</p><p>"Merlin! You're such a... such a..."</p><p>"Such a what?!"</p><p>"You're so--!"</p><p>With a wordless growl, he grabbed her; and before she even knew she was leaning forward, her bag was on the floor and his hands were in her hair and their mouths were crushed together and the school dissolved away around them in the sudden exploding heat.</p><p>#</p><p class="times">Three years of war and now this; she thinks maybe she should be surprised but there's nothing but cold, numbing desperation.</p><p class="times">He often comes by himself to visit her cell. He dresses in shimmering green and heavy black and does not push back his hood.</p><p class="times">"Your forces are scattered," he says and the Malfoy Seal glitters bright and cold on his finger. "Dumbledore's gone. You've lost."</p><p class="times">"It's time," he says and shows her the execution order, a careless scrawl on a scrap of parchment. "They'll come for you in the morning."</p><p class="times">"If you're so clever," he says and tosses the order at her feet as he leaves, "why don't you escape?"</p><p class="times">Magic is just change enacted by will, she thinks, and thinks again Change and Will because capitals make things more impressive.</p><p class="times">She plucks a hair from her head, wraps it in the scrap of parchment, points it at the door and says her first words for three days.</p><p class="times">Malfoy Manor cracks neatly in two.</p><p>#</p><p>There were footsteps approaching, shockingly loud; and just like that they were on opposite sides of the corridor and then Draco was dodging inside the room and Hermione was ducking to pick up her bag, rubbing her fingers against her lips and trying to remember how to breathe. The footsteps got closer and now she could hear familiar voices with them, and she followed Draco into the classroom, moving towards her usual seat and keeping her head down.</p><p>She caught a flash of movement at the corner of her eye, and then someone right behind her said: "Hello."</p><p>"Nothing!" yelped Hermione.</p><p>"Er, okay..." Su Li sat down in the next chair along and began taking out quills and parchment as the other pupils moved around them to take the other seats. "You should maybe lay off the coffee, Hermione."</p><p>"Coffee? Yes! Right! Less coffee!" Hermione smiled weakly and sat, pulling out her own gear and very carefully not looking over to where she could hear Draco and Millicent arguing in loud whispers. </p><p>So carefully, in fact, that when Su Li leaned over to nudge her and ask "What's up with Malfoy?" she jumped half out of her chair and knocked her ink pot over, splattering her parchment. </p><p>"What a Malfoy! Mess! What a mess!" Hermione exclaimed, shaking her wand.</p><p>Su Li frowned. "Did something--?"</p><p>"Nothing. Happened," snapped Hermione and heard Draco, across the room, echoing her in the same sharp whisper.</p><p>They glared at each other.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>